


He Did It Wrong

by beingonstageismagic



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Molly Hooper, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingonstageismagic/pseuds/beingonstageismagic
Summary: Upon Sherlock's return from his two years away, he finds himself unable to escape his feelings for a certain pathologist. But when faced with the problem of said pathologist's current boyfriend following the events of her broken engagement, Sherlock knows he will do whatever it takes to be with Molly. After all, he loves her, and he believes you should do anything for the people you love, especially when it comes to protecting them from potential threats.





	He Did It Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> My third Sherlolly one shot, hope you like it! There is a hint of domestic abuse so please be warned before reading as I do not wish to upset anyone.  
> Thank you x

_(Sherlock's POV)_

I could feel the frustration building inside me. As usual, I was sprawled out over my large sofa with my hands in my signature praying position. John and I were trying to solve a case where a wealthy woman had been found with her lungs frozen but the rest of her body at a dangerously high temperature. Usually, cases like this were easy for me, but I took pleasure in dragging this one out, no matter how much it annoyed Lestrade, because John was usually so busy with Mary and the baby that he never had time for cases, so when he did get chance to work with me, I optimised the time we had. Plus, my mind was distracted elsewhere and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't focus on the terribly boring murder case. 

 

"SHERLOCK!" 

 

I was broken from my thoughts by John shouting my name. I blinked at him, unsure of why he felt the need to be so abrupt when attempting to get my attention,

 

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, I've been shouting your name for the last 5 minutes, where were you?"

 

"Thinking."

 

"I thought this case was simple?"

 

"It is."

 

"Then why, pray tell, have you been muttering frustratedly to yourself for 15 minutes?"

 

I stared back at him, I hadn't realised my frustration was visible on the outside as well. 

 

"I apologise John, my mind has been elsewhere."

 

"Not on the case?"

 

"I've been trying to focus on the case, but unfortunately that has not been possible."

 

"Well someone mark it on the calendar, the day the great Sherlock Holmes was unable to focus -"

 

"John. Please do not mix your sarcasm with ill timed jokes. It doesn't suit you."

 

"Well Sherlock, please enlighten me with what has been bothering you."

 

"You don't have time."

 

"What?"

 

"Mary's about to text you and tell you she needs you at home, Rosie is crying and she needs more pampers."

 

At that exact moment, John's text alert pinged and he look down and read the message, his eyes wandered back up to me,

 

"How did you -"

 

"Oh please John, it's obvious. You've already been out for at least an hour because it stopped raining approximately 65 minutes ago, yet your coat still has traces of raindrops under the collar and on the shoulders. Saturday is your shopping day and you always return home by 11 yet here you are at half past with not a single shopping bag, meaning you haven't bought anything yet and knowing Rosie is still incapable of cleaning and disposing of her personal waste herself, it becomes clear that you need nappies. Now go and help your wife and don't forget the cream you can't get from boots."

 

His phone pinged again, he muttered the text aloud, 

 

"Also, please will you get some of the cream that you can't get from boots, we're out."

 

He stood there with his mouth agape, 

 

"But how-"

 

"Goodbye John!" I stated as I pushed his bewildered brain out of the door, flinging his jacket after him. I heard the door shut and his car beep open. 

 

I sat up and checked my phone, I had a text from Molly informing me that I'd left that ridiculous hat at the lab last night when John and I were hiding from the insufferable reporters surrounding Barts Hospital. My phone pinged and she informed me she would bring the hat round when she left work. 

 

I had been rather confused when considering Molly. She had a new boyfriend who I had met once. A secret alcoholic who would no doubt turn abusive within the next week, however I had learnt from previous experience that butting in to Molly's relationships was not a wise idea and often ended with her become agitated or upset. And no matter how many times I said the wrong thing or ignored her presence, the last thing I wanted to do was upset her. So I stayed out of it and let her believe her happiness would last. I hope it does. I closed my eyes again and tried to focus inside my mind palace. 

 

 

**MH** : _"You always say the such horrible thing things, every time. Always."_

**SH** : _"I am sorry. Forgive me. Merry Christmas Molly Hooper."_

 

**SH** : _"For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."_

 

**MH** : _"_ _You look sad, when you think he can't see you."_

**SH** : _"You can see me"_

**MH** : _"I don't count."_

 

**SH** : _"_ _You're wrong you know. You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you."_

 

**MH** : _"What do you need?"_

**SH** : _"You."_

 

**MH** : _"Only it's just that, that's what John says he does and if I'm being John-"_

**SH** : _"You're not being John. You're being yourself."_

 

**SH** : _"Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person who mattered most. You made it all possible."_

 

**SH** : _"I hope you'll be very happy Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for turn out to be sociopaths."_

 

 

All of our favourite conversations flew through my mind. Everything we'd ever said to each other clouding every rational thought I could conjure. My mind pictured her so clearly it was as if she were stood in front of me. I could see every natural shadow and shine on her face, I could see exactly how her brown hair framed her face and the deepness of her eyes as they stared into mine. I couldn't get her out of my head. All these years I had been so horrid to her, thinking it would protect her. But I know that everything I did just upset her more and I realised how selfish I was. I realised how much of an actual machine I was. I flashed back to Rosie's christening when Molly turned to me and said "no idea why people think you're incapable of human emotion." She was clearly being sarcastic, but maybe I am incapable. Sitting here now I know I feel something for Molly Hooper. But knowing that just confuses me more. Sends my brain into overdrive, short circuiting and overheating, just as a machine would. Maybe I just cannot feel. Maybe I am incapable. Maybe I am a machine. Maybe. 

 

"No you're not."

 

This voice made me jump and awaken from my thoughts, the second time today. But as I opened my eyes it was not John in front of me. It was Molly Hooper. 

 

***************************************

_(Molly's POV)_

 

I pushed the hat into my handbag as I gathered my things from the lab. I attempted to sort my ponytail but the bobble snapped so I brushed my hair through and let it drop down my shoulders and back. I never wore my hair down. I was thankful to be leaving as today had been a long shift. I'd hardly gotten any sleep, afraid of what he might do to me if I became unconscious. I don't know what happened, when we first met he was so perfect, so dreamy and then two months later, he's drinking too much and hitting me. But I cannot leave because at least he still loves me. At least I think he does. Well, he definitely loves me more than Sherlock does. I don't know why I still feel anything for him. I know I still love him, I know I do. But I'm so sick of him ripping my heart out and stamping on it. I'm sick of doing everything for him, and everything being so under appreciated. But he's still my friend and I still care. And I know he seems like he doesn't, but I know he does. He does care, I can see it when he thinks John or Mrs Hudson or Mary could possibly be in danger. He would do anything for them. If only he felt the same way about me. 

 

I hailed my taxi on the curb and attempted to mentally prepare myself for any of Sherlock's insults or nasty deductions. They're different every time but a bit of preparation can't hurt. The cabbie pulls over and I pay him and climb out. 

 

After knocking on the door three times I decided that Sherlock was clearly deep in his mind palace and unaware of anything going on outside his brain. So I let myself in and made my way up the stairs. I reached the door and saw him. He was sat in his signature position. But something was wrong, he looked wrong. He looked awfully distressed and he began muttering to himself. I tried to say his name but my words caught in my throat when I heard him say,

 

"Maybe I just cannot feel. Maybe I am incapable. Maybe I am a machine. Maybe."

 

"No you're not." I said moving towards him, he opened his eyes and blinked at me. Just staring. Trying to comprehend my presence no doubt. God knows how long he'd been stuck in that head of his. So I just stood there, trying my best to look completely normal, though the pain in my ribs was unbearable as I struggled to breath with his eyes searching my body. I know he'll be able to tell that he has hurt me, hell he probably knew he would the first time he saw him. This was the one time I wished he would have said something. Typical Sherlock, he can tell me Jim Moriarty is gay but can't tell me my boyfriend is an abusive drunk. So helpful. 

 

***************************************

_(Sherlock's POV)_

 

The wonderfully amazingly beautiful Molly Hooper stood in front of me. Her hair was draping over her shoulders in a way I had never seen before, and her summer dress and coat seemed to outline her figure as if she were an angel. A flowery scarf hanging around her neck, a bruise hidden beneath it. But not as recent as the bruises on her wrists that she pathetically tried to hide with her coat sleeves and the way she stood indicated she had hurt her ribs. 

 

"Hi. Your hair looks-"

 

"Awful? I know, my bobble snapped."

 

"No, I was going to say -"

 

"And don't even get me started in this dress. It's quite old actually but it has long sleeves and I like the pattern, the stain is blood before you ask but it's not mine, it's 77 year old Harold's who decided he still had enough life left in him for his liver to rupture so that was fun and my coat isn't waterproof so thank god it didn't rain-"

 

"Molly." She finally stopped rambling and looked at me. "Even though most of those things are probably true. I was going to say, that I like your hair like that." 

 

"Oh, thank you."

 

"And I like the dress and the coat and the scarf, even if it's intended purpose is not quite working out." Her brow furrowed but I ignored it, "I really do mean this when I say it Molly."

 

"Say what?"

 

"You look," I paused observing her as she fidgeted under my gaze, "you look beautiful, Molly."

 

She looked taken aback. Her mouth hung open and she tried to form any sort of word but to no avail. For the first time ever, Molly Hooper was speechless. 

 

"And you don't just look it, Molly, you are beautiful. Every part of you, your hair, your eyes, your figure, your brain, your smile, your laugh ... every part of you, Molly Hooper. And I apologise for the fact that it's taken me so long to realise it."

 

Her hands were trembling slightly. Shock, I suppose. 

 

"Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making fun of me."

 

"No, Molly, I'm not making fun of you. I promise you that." I walked closer to her and placed my hand on her cheek. She just stared into my eyes, "All these years I thought distancing myself from you would protect you. But all I seemed to do was hurt you, and for that I cannot apologise enough. I thought I was protecting you but really I was only protecting myself, I was selfish-"

 

"Sherlock, you're not-" she began, she amazes me, even though I've hurt her so many times in the past, she will never let me say a bad word against myself. 

 

"Yes, Molly, I was. I was selfish. And to see you here today, knowing that he has hurt you," she looked to the floor, "and knowing that I could have warned you makes me feel worthless and I don't like that. I want to be worth something. I want to feel." I lifted her chin so she was once again looking at me, "I want to feel something with you." Her breath hitched, "I do need you, Molly. I do. I need your brilliance and your perfect smile. But more importantly, I need you to forgive me. I need you to know that I am sorry and I need you to know that I promise to protect you from now on. I just need you." She was crying now. I tried to wipe her tears away, but my vision was blurred by my own tears pooling in my eyes, "I need to know you love me."

 

"Sherlock-" I interrupted her,

 

"And I need you to know that I love you too."

 

***************************************

_(Molly's POV)_

 

My breath caught in my throat. I felt like I couldn't breath. I knew I couldn't. He absentmindedly stroked my cheek and searched my entire face for some sort of answer, some sort of proof that I loved him. HE needed proof after all these years. His face fell as I didn't answer and his hand began to drop, it was now or never. 

 

I immediately closed the gap between us and kissed him. At first, he was shocked, but he soon relaxed and held me closer to him. Our lips moved with perfect synchronisation as my hand found its way to his perfectly curled hair. We seemed stuck in that moment. Like time wasn't passing by and it was just us in the world. I only realised how long it had been when I pulled away and gasped for air. He kept me close to him, and I happily stayed in his arms. 

 

"Sherlock, I-"

 

"I know, and I love you too, Molly Hooper, I think I always have."

 

***************************************

_(Sherlock's POV)_

 

Her face fell and she pulled away from me. I reached for her but she just stared. 

 

"Molly, what is it?"

 

"He's going to be so angry. Sherlock, he's going to hurt me. I can't take anymore, I can't-"

 

She began to cry and I felt an awful feeling in my chest, if it was possible I would suggest that my heart was breaking. I pulled her into a tight hug and didn't give her the opportunity to pull away. I just held her close as she sobbed,

 

"He just snapped Sherlock. I came home later from work one day and he just, he just-"

 

She was shaking uncontrollably. 

 

"I know, it's okay. You're safe now." I whispered into her hair, stroking the silky tresses with my hand, "Look at me." She didn't, "Come on, Molly, look at me." She slowly lifted her head, "I'm going to promise you something, and make a vow to you, okay?" She nodded almost imperceptibly, "I promise to protect you, just as I will protect the Watsons. I promise you this, Molly, I won't let him hurt you."

 

She just nodded. I proceeded to shush her and attempt to comfort her by rubbing her back. Eventually, she calmed down again. 

 

"Thank you, Sherlock. I should have ended it with him a long time ago, but you were gone, well you were back but you were ... gone." she looked at me, willing for me to understand, "and he was still here..." I nodded and she released a sigh of relief.

 

"I know, Molly. I, I am sorry."

 

"Hush now, don't be silly," she said, "you don't need to apologise for protecting your friends. I understand." I stayed silent. All words escaping me, she sighed again, "And don't worry about Charlie, he already texted me threatening that we were over if I didn't come to his tonight ... I never took anything important there anyway." 

 

She giggled softly and I smiled down at her, overjoyed to see her happier than she was moments ago. I leant down to her and kissed her on the cheek, ensuring her smile would stay there. She turned a sweet shade of scarlet and turned to walk away, I grabbed her hand and spun her back around into my embrace once more, crashing my lips onto hers, feeling her smile through the kiss made it even better. We pulled away when oxygen once again became necessary to survival. 

 

"Well, I should be going. I'll see you soon, Sherlock." She smiled as she combed her fingers through the patch of hair my hand had just messed up. As she started towards the door, I remembered the outfit choice. I spoke as her hand touched the door handle,

 

"You're better off without him anyway." she turned to face me, rolled her eyes slightly in a jokey manner,

 

"Well, yeah, I know that-"

 

"He did it wrong." I cut her off.

 

"What?" She turned her attention back to me again after averting her gaze back to the door,

 

"The one bruise left on you that isn't there from malicious intent. A 'love bite' I think is the common name for it."

 

She blushed, but more out of shame than embarrassment. She shook it off. 

 

"What do you mean 'he did it wrong'?"

 

"He didn't choose the right spot."

 

***************************************

_(Molly's POV)_  

 

"Sherlock, what are you talking about?"

 

I didn't realise there was a certain place to do such a thing, then again if anyone would know the logic and mathematics behind it, it would be Sherlock. Through my intense thought, I didn't realise Sherlock had once again closed the gap I had made between us. I looked up at him as he winked, I immediately turned the colour of a ripe tomato. He lowered his head to my ear and whispered,

 

"You're supposed to do it right..."

 

He slid my silk scarf from my neck and I felt his breath on my skin as his strong arms encircled my waist and forced me closer as his lips came down to brush y neck as he spoke,

 

" _Here_."

 

His lips connected with my skin and I realised again how much I really love Sherlock Holmes. 


End file.
